May

do you question, as I do
the time suffered painfully through
the churning of a constant true
and breaking wireless of a sort?

are you happy to report
the second coming last resort?
or would you rather just retort
within your stage and clamoring few?

a docile servant becomes you
adept at nothing, talent-proof
all hate raised to those who blew
the deflating bubble that surrounds you

all that’s matter, matters not then
what succeeds won’t be forgotten

Copyright L.M. 2007. (in a series of many written around the same time a couple months ago).

Inspection

“you don’t know me,
and you don’t even care”

breath is disappearing
somewhere deep inside of me
somewhere numb and bleeding
there’s a whole lung gone
I knew I couldn’t be wrong
and now I die inside
wondering wondering why
the birds are circling
they knew all along
a poor idiot like me
was sure to be a target
so spare me my excellence
spare me my time
just spare me

I liked it when I was young
innocence was fine
nothing expected of me
and I upstaged life
but when did the stage fall
when did I lose hope
when will I breathe again
please, let me breathe again
please let me be
me
        

       

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written a couple months ago, quote from Augustana’s song “Boston”. don’t worry, I know the poem isn’t good haha).

Hanging On (2005)

I cannot say I’m pleased
repetition is, however, foreseeable
and I did not foresee
a failure on my part for feeling
the rudimentary error of my species
a mistake Mother Nature corrected with the others
and hoping
a moronic faux-pas in this century
if I collapse, you’ll understand
for I’ve forgotten what is new
and I’ll remember the old
all over again so it is once more fresh and disturbed

tiny speckled thoughts of random
tear me away into bliss
but sharp jabs in my side remind me
such cringing should be my guest
it heralds not impossibility
and speaks with the ancient eyes
so why do I feel so lost and helpless
when my stage continues to grow
and my crowd fights it out amongst themselves
this mantle is silent but near implosion
with albums of fear and hatred and ignorance
weighing down on the chance for sustainment
but bricks are strong
and though the weight is mighty
it keeps me afloat somehow
my worries only feelings
those rancid add-ons to our faulty line

Copyright L.M. 2007.